Different for the Better
by HappyTurtleCakes2012
Summary: Karkat was always the quiet one. Nobody didn't want to bother with him. What happens to that quiet exterior? John happens. Language, and sexual suggestions.
1. Chapter 1

He trudged out of his last class. He didn't care that he was holding people back. Karkat wasn't one to care about anything. He was always the quiet one, the one that nobody wanted to talk to out of fear of getting a slap to the face. Karkat didn't talk to anyone, and no one talked to Karkat. That's the way it's always been, and will probably always be that way. That was until there was a new student...

An hour or two earlier-

"Everyone, let me have your attention, please! This is John, John Egbert. He's new here, so everyone, please give him a warm welcome!" The teacher said.

The teacher motioned him to an empty seat (which was to no surprise that it was next to Karkat.) It's funny, there seems to be a lot of empty seats around Karkat in all of his classes.

John had icy blue eyes, tussled dark brown hair, black square-framed glasses, baggy kakhi cargo shorts, and a T-shirt with a ghost on the front. That shirt seems strangley familiar, he's seen that shirt before in some Japanease store downtown. He never went there. In fact, he's never been in any foreign store in fear of finding contraband items...He didn't want to take any risks.

"Hi! What's your name? I'm John!" the bespectacled boy exclamed.

The concentrated bright optimism was just way too much for someone as dark, and as shut-in as Karkat to handle. He cringed at the sound of his voice.

"Karkat..." He muttered with a scowl.

John had this derpy thing about him. It somehow made Karkat wander to the treacherous recesses of his mind. It made him think of his father. He didn't even like him...Making him think of these kinds of things didn't come easily to him. Therefore, he tried to avoid it at all costs, and how John could pull it out of him effortlessly, with nothing more but the sound of his voice, it made him absolutley furious.

"John, can you tell me what the answer to this is?" Mrs. Maryam, the student teacher, beamed.

John gave an intense look at the chalkboard. (The school was too poor to afford anything at least remotley new, such as whiteboards).

"The answer is 4.5m squared" John said, flashing a confident smile.

"That is absolutley correct!" Mrs. Maryam said in shock. "You are the first person who has gotten that correct today!"

"Great, he's a math whiz too..." Karkat thought to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I like all of the positive feedback I got on the previous chapter, I'm feelin' the love! *muah* I never thought I had a talent for writing. I draw better than I write...Seriously! Anywho..On with chapter** **2! :3**

"Your ACT's are Thursday, I suggest you all pay attention!" The science teacher nagged, I'm not doing this for my own health, you know."

John had his head proped on his hand, and his elbow on his desk, and his beryl blue irises were gazing intensley at the clock, waiting for the clock to change just as everyone else was.

You put your pencil on your desk only to see all the doodles you drew instead of writing notes for this "important" test. Tests are stupid. Teachers are stupid, school is stupid, everything is just stupi-

The lunch bell rings interrupting your thoughts.

You get your things together. (Which isn't really much, just a haggard binder, and a pencil or two) You really wish you could afford new supplies, but with rent, food, water, and clothes, supplies are kind of at the bottom of your list.

You walk in the lunchroom, which had a terrible, pungent odor. Less than half of the people in your grade were in there...Which was typical. They were probably talking to their friends (something you sometimes wish you had). You go get in line, which only consisted of maybe 10 people at the moment. Not that many at all.

You get your tray with "food" on it...you never liked the school food. You don't even know why you bother getting it. Force of habit, you suppose...

"Fish? Damnit! I hate fish!" You say a little too loudly, and a few heads turn.

More people leak in the cafeteria like a ruptured water pipe.

They get their trays, and form their cliques. Then you see Karkat. He didn't have a specific group, nor did he care.

"Sometimes, I wish the people here wern't such fucknuts, and were much more tolerable. Maybe then, I wouldn't be here all alone like a fuckass." Karkat though to himself.

John walks through the door. His scrawny frame struggled pushing though the door. You've always wondered why that door was always heavier than all of the others in the school...He's slightly late. Probably couldn't find his way? It doesn't matter. Why do you care so much? You think to yourself.

John gets his food, and looks at the entire lunchroom, overwhelmed by all of the people, wishing to know where to sit. He sees Karkat, and scampered enthusiastically over to the barren table.

"Damn, He looks like he has a pole shoved up his ass...Fuck his perfect posture." He aknowledged to himself, aknowledging his own posture.

"Hi, Karkat, isn't it?" John asked, a little cheerfully for Karkat's liking.

Karkat made a small grunt in response.

It was silent for the better part of 5 minutes.

"So, which one of the classes are your favorite?" John questioned, anxious to anialate the overbearing silence that was created my his previous arrival to the cold, bare lunch table.

Karkat only forked at his food and looked down, foraging for an excuse to leave. Wait, why did he need an excuse? Fuck excuses, he could leave when he wanted to, nobody told him differently, and that's what he did. He got up, leaving his tray, and stormed off, But not without tripping over someone's foot.

It was Dave...

Dave was everything anyone could ever imagine, and then some. He had light- almost white platinum blonde hair that was always perfect, not a hair stood out of place. He was tall, About 6''2. An athlete for sure. Total jock. He was definatley toned. Dave had a red and white T-Shirt with a pixellated record on it. He had these trademark aviator shades, and behind those shades were eyes so red and intense. They reminded him of a candied apple. He also had a poker face that drove Karkat up a wall, because whatever insults Karkat threw at him, never seemed to have affected him, no matter how vulgar they were.

"Watch where you put your foot, fuckass!"

Karkat's glare was met with that stupid poker face of his. Dave didn't really pay him much mind, he went back to his conversation with his friends, and his girlfriend Jade.

He stomped out of the lunchroom, down the hall, and out the door. He didn't care that he would get in trouble for skipping. His hot face was met with a chilly November breeze. The cold air always calmed him down.

It felt good.


End file.
